


before the gold and glimmer

by daleked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi, band!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daleked/pseuds/daleked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by <a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_macanwAMJm1r0k7sfo1_500.png">this beautiful gifset</a> by the amazing <a href="http://obrienbutt.tumblr.com/post/31519239845/sterek-au-scott-mccall-his-girlfriend-allison">Kels</a>. A band!AU. Scott is in a band with his girlfriend and best friend. They take part in a Battle Of The Bands. They come up against Derek Hale and his pups in the semi-finals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	before the gold and glimmer

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone, this is entirely because of [Kels](http://obrienbutt.tumblr.com). Follow her and compliment her butt. I, too, write fic on [tumblr](http://thessaliad.tumblr.com/tagged/BB-FICLETS-OF-TW). Also, at the end, I might possibly do a soundtrack of all the songs inside.

Scott squints at Derek Hale, who is seducing the crowd with his mad guitar skills while crooning The Love Cats. He’s pretty sure he sees one of the girls in the front pass out while fanning herself. Stiles, beside him, lets out a low whistle.

“They’re _good_ ,” Stiles says wonderingly. “So good.” Scott recognises that tone of voice and cringes inwardly. Allison links arms with Scott and peeks out, watching as Hale swings his hips and hisses “ _oh, you know that I’d do anything for you_ ” into the mike, practically purring.

“The lead singer is smoking hot,” Stiles says dreamily. “If I were a fangirl, I would totally cream myself.” Scott is torn between elbowing his best friend and covering his own ears. He settles on ignoring it, running over his own chords in his head. They’re playing Hotel California- his choice, of course. Stiles had lobbied for Alone by the Bee Gees and had stuck by his choice until Scott had negotiated with him: they would play it only if they got through to the finals. And they have. Well, it’s the semi-finals. It’s just them, Derek Hale’s band, another one called Kefir and an indie duo called Fat Cats.

Yeah, no one’s got good band names. Stiles came up with their current band name, the Beaconators, after several changes like Pudding Patrol and Maker Baker. Derek Hale’s band name isn’t that great either. The Wolf Pack. Sort of an old school name, Scott thinks, craning his neck so he can see Derek Hale flash a quick wink at the cameras. Several enthusiastic fangirls near the curtains let out shrieks and start crying. Well, The Wolf Pack packs a punch in the eye candy area, Scott admits. There’s their killer drummer Erica, all cleavage and smokey eyes, and a well-built dude called Boyd playing the bass like he’s Victor Wooten’s long-lost son. 

Fat Cats step out, a pretty ginger called Lydia and her way older boyfriend Peter. They start on some song about marriage proposals, and from the way they’re harmonising, it’s obvious that they put in loads of practice. Scott can practically feel the approval radiating off the judges.

“You’re on next,” the cue hisses to the Beaconators. “Put on your socks, Bilinski.” Stiles makes a face at Finstock, the stage director, and wilfully laces up his boots without socks on. 

“Don’t look so worried,” Allison murmurs to Scott. “We could beat them.” He answers her with a kiss to the cheek. There are whooping noises nearby and he turns to see Derek Hale’s pups tumbling about, punching each other in the arm. They stop and raise eyebrows. Scott raises his eyebrows back at them, but he's pretty sure that he comes off as more surprised than sophisticated.

“Good luck,” Boyd says sincerely, smiling at them and shaking Scott's hand. Erica is staring at Stiles in a way that suggests that she would be open to devouring him anytime soon, but they’re all distracted by Derek Hale himself coming in. There’s an electric current in the air, with the thin undertone of the song that Fat Cats are doing (“ _will you let me slip away_?” Lydia inquires musically into the mike, voice rising querulously as it is joined by Peter’s smooth tenor) as Derek comes closer. Scott can feel sweat bead on his brow as Derek Hale stands right up against their group. Scott tries to push Allison behind him a little, but she stands firm.

“I’ll make you a deal, McCall,” Derek says. “We both know that we’re the only bands that stand a chance of actually making it to the finals. Kefir is full of shit and their guitarist is banging the drummer. Fat Cats is okay, but they’re not rock material. So here’s the deal. I flunk out, but you give me,” Derek ducks down and swipes a thumb across Stiles’ lower lip, “him.”

Thankfully,  Scott is saved from answering it because Finstock bats him in the head with his clipboard and bawls for them to get out there on stage. Scott comes out first to a cheering crowd, and Allison tunes the bass while a rather shell-shocked Stiles takes his place behind the drums. Scott starts strumming out the introduction instinctively, and Allison sways along. The crowd follows him like an enchanted snake, but Scott is thinking about Derek Hale's offer. When Allison joins in fully and so does Stiles, Scott gets his head in the game and starts singing. His hands move automatically; they've practiced enough times that he's comfortable picking out the tune in front of the crowd. 

"- _and I was thinking to myself, this could be heaven or this could be hell._ " Appreciative whoops sound from the crowd and Scott grins. He glances over at Allison, who is perspiring under the harsh lights, and winks at her. She graces him with her lovely smile and continues playing, ducking her head shyly as some guys in the crowd wolf-whistle. He doesn't dare turn around and look at Stiles, because he's only just managed to push the thought of giving up Stiles to Derek Hale out of his head. 

They make it through the performance and receive a loud roar of applause at the end. The three of them stand together and bow, laughing as Stiles tosses up his drum sticks and catches them deftly. When they move backstage, the four-piece boyband Kefir start heading onstage. They're all buttholes, Scott knows. Kefir strikes up a tune and Jackson Whittemore, their lead singer, enchants the crowd with his particularly tender rendition of a popular Dashboard song. Scott tries to shoot their drummer Mahealani a thumbs up for working with a giant douchebag without losing his temper, but gets chased down by an irate Finstock who shoves them down the corridor leading to the rest area. Stiles makes pterodactyl noises until Finstock leaves them to walk to the room alone.

"Seriously, though. Stolen?" Allison laughs as they move to the lounge area where The Wolf Pack is relaxing. Scott laughs as they head towards the refreshment area, picking up a bottle of orange juice and passing it to her. Stiles gets a bottle of isotonic drink while Scott opts for apple juice.

"You have stolen my... Heeeeeart," Stiles sings earnestly, gulping down his drink. "There's a law somewhere that states that all guys who are assholes like Dashboard Confessional."

"Deep down inside," Allison agrees. "They lock their room doors, blast As Lovers Go and weep." Scott is staring over at The Wolf Pack, and he doesn't miss the once-over that Derek Hale gives Stiles. Scott gives Derek the universal 'I'm watching you' gesture- jabbing two fingers in the general direction of his eyes and pointing at Derek's own. Derek raises his glass to Scott and sips from it, lips curling upwards in a nasty grin.

Erica snickers at them from her comfortable corner on the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> The next few parts will be up soon :-) I'd love to hear what you thought of this.


End file.
